Pamela McMilian

pamelamcmilian.com

Menu
  • Home
  • Poetry
  • About
  • Contact Pamela
Menu

Tag: patience

Wrestling with Waiting

Posted on January 28, 2026January 29, 2026 by Pamela McMilian

“Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him”  Psalm 37:7a (ESV)

My dog has developed a curious habit based on faulty assumptions.

Being a well-trained pet owner, I respond to her cues dutifully. Her whining and twirling antics as my feet touch the bedroom floor each morning mean she needs outside – urgently! I hurry to open the kitchen door, watching as she runs down the deck stairs into the backyard.

Soon she reappears, thumping the door with her front paws or giving a quick bark. I understand she’s anxious to get inside for her breakfast. I promptly open the door and fill her little bowls with fresh food and water.

She watches, sitting just outside her dining room (aka the laundry room) until I place her dishes back in their stand and say, “okay.” Charging to her bowls like a racehorse from the starting gate, her tail wags her body as she wolfs down her morning meal.

Following breakfast, it’s time for treats. She backs up and stays and I toss her a tiny treat. She crawls and I toss her another. She sits up, shakes hands, high-fives, and rolls over and I dispense a treat after each trick. Her grand finale, playing dead, ends when I release her with the word “okay.” She springs to her feet and I launch a tiny shower of celebratory treats. After sniffing the floor to ensure she hasn’t missed one, she curls into her little pillow and rests from the demands of running me through the morning routine.

Lately, however, she doesn’t rest long. She has incorrectly concluded life with me is a series of if/then transactions and she’s in charge. If she gives a cue, then I’ll respond appropriately. She’s recently begun testing her hypothesis by repeating the steps that, in dog logic at least, should result in me serving her a second breakfast. If she tells me she needs to go outside (now skipping the part where she actually runs down the steps into the yard; after all, it is just a drill) and asks to be let back in, then I should once again fill her food dish.

Her happy, expectant demeanor quickly shifts to dejected disappointment when she discovers I’ve failed to respond and the food bowl remains empty. Sadly, since she gains weight easily, her food dish won’t be refilled until 5pm, regardless of the repeated attempts to sway me. She doesn’t understand my lack of immediate action is because I care about her. It is because I love her that I don’t respond each time she wants to be fed. Waiting isn’t her strong suit.

The same can be true of us. We’re often certain we know what we want or need and get our relationship with God a little backwards. Have you ever in prayer, found yourself telling God (or strongly suggesting) what needs to happen and when? Waiting doesn’t come naturally to us, either. That’s when we need to set aside our faulty assumptions and shift our focus to the truths of God’s character. As we remember his great love for us and place our trust in his sovereignty, we find patience is the remarkable by-product, a fruit of the Spirit. As Psalm 37 reminds us, it is by anchoring ourselves in the knowledge that his will and timing are always perfect, that we can rest in the Lord and wait patiently for him.

Prayer: Lord, thank you that you are an omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent God. You know my needs and concerns even before I ask. Thank you that I can trust fully in your faithfulness and love. Help me walk in patience and wisdom, Lord, knowing your timing is perfect. Amen

Prodigy and Patience

Posted on January 7, 2024February 24, 2024 by Pamela McMilian

You’ve got to love a kid who is so self-assured that he doesn’t even pretend he’s not looking into your  home when he knocks on the door. Instead, this particular child knocks assertively, then stares through the window while waving at me.

He’s our neighborhood prodigy. He’s famous around here. Prodigy possesses a Dennis the Menace brand of charm and imagination that frequently leaves us simultaneously smiling and shaking our heads.

I’m convinced the person who designed our living room furniture is a spiteful soul. Regardless of how hard you press the little button that operates the footrest, it lowers at a sloth-like pace, frequently pushing bladders to their near limit. The button, I believe, is in my life to test my patience, not unlike the child at the door.

 I feel him watching me as I continue pressing the blasted button. Eventually, the footrest lowers to a point allowing my escape from the sofa to see what the little guy wants.

I open the door only partially to find Prodigy standing in the cold drizzle. He’s sporting a sharp looking puffy blue and black winter jacket that I figure must be fairly water resistant. He certainly looked comfortable. But then, Prodigy is always comfortable. His dark eyes peer at me from within the depths of his oversized hood. I haven’t had an opportunity to say a word when he speaks with all the seriousness and authority of the governor.

“Four things,” he says. He holds up his fingers to accentuate his points.  “One – I’m not a solicitor.” 

Clearly, the footrest delay provided him adequate time to prepare a speech.

“Two – I’m a traveling salesman. Three – would you like some tea? Four – it’s only a dime.”

He flashes a smile that would melt even Mr. Wilson’s heart. It’s then I notice he has set up shop on our front porch. A small metal tea pot rests precariously on the porch railing. Balanced beside the pot is a shallow wooden box overstuffed with tea bags. I briefly imagine his mother’s face when she realizes he’s absconded with all the tea bags in the house. I smile to myself but have to decline his offer.

“No, I’m sorry” I say, “we have COVID, so I’m not going to open the door any wider. But I hope you have better luck at the next house.”

Disappointment brushes across his face for less than an instant before he understands I’m not really rejecting his sales pitch. He knows I’m protecting him by not engaging with him further. He’s already gathering his wares as I finish speaking. Prodigy bounces down the front steps eyeing his next target, the house across the street.  

“You’re welcome!” he calls back over his shoulder even though I haven’t thanked him.

I grin as I close the door, realizing that the winter weather will bring no reprieve from the lessons in patience and the adventures of Prodigy.

Recent Posts

  • Kokab’s Wish, Coming Soon!
  • Wrestling with Waiting
  • The Most Important Thing
  • A Grandmother’s Influence
  • Christ in the Coffee Shop

Categories

  • A Grandmother's Influence
  • Blog
  • Devotional
  • Faith
  • Humor
  • Poetry
  • Uncategorized
© 2026 Pamela McMilian | Powered by Minimalist Blog WordPress Theme